


Snow in Asgard

by ThunderThor



Category: Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Intersex Loki, Jötunn Loki, Loki Angst, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderThor/pseuds/ThunderThor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When ice breaks, you have to melt the pieces before they can re-freeze and become whole again. </p><p>Loki, a servant of Odin Allfather, is assaulted by a group of young Asgardian warriors. Thor is summoned to deal with the transgression, and takes Loki on as his personal attendant until the case is resolved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bathhouse

Disrobing in front of Asgardians was always an irritating experience. Some were more discreet than others, but all the pink skins in the bath house glanced Loki's way at some point. They whispered behind their hands about his blue skin, the ceremonial markings etched into his flesh, the beastly horns rising from his charcoal hair, and the glimmering reflection of his ruby eyes as he stared down into the water, pretending not to hear. Loki tried to time his baths when the pools were empty, but servants worked all hours of the day and night, and there were always one or two weary patrons soaking their limbs in the tepid waters.  
  
Loki eased his robes and boots off, noting with relief that very few of the shelves held personal items. He should be able to find a private alcove and enjoy his soak in peace. Gathering a bar of soap and a sponge into his arms, Loki made his way to the bathing room. Naked but for the gold chain around his neck that symbolized his slavery, the jotun trudged into the water with a soft hiss. It was always much too hot for his taste. He released the braids from his hair, ruffling the long ebony locks as they cascaded down his back. Two older men lounged in one corner of the spacious pool, seated between two large columns, and one lone warrior swam laps at the deeper end.  
  
There were alcoves lining one wall for those bathers who sought some privacy. They were without curtains, but three walls were better than none. Loki seated himself in the first one, tucked into a corner. Sinking down onto the submerged marble bench, the jotun set his bar of soap into a holder and leaned back, shivering in pleasure as the cold wall chilled his spine.  
  
For once, he did not feel rushed. The bath hall was quiet. The Asgardians paid no attention to him. The two older men chatted so quietly Loki could hear the ripples made by the warrior's strokes as he swam the length of the pool. Loki allowed his eyes to droop, and played absently with his hair.  
  
It felt like mere minutes before loud voices began to echo off the tiled walls. Loki opened his eyes just enough to watch five young warriors run splashing into the pool, rough housing and shattering the peace with their rambunctious conversation. They were fresh from class, Loki realized as the boys practiced their grappling on one another, enjoying the added challenge of slippery skin. Two of the larger boys ganged up on the smallest, and Loki scowled in distaste as one held his arms aloft while the other took jabs at his stomach.  
  
The boy managed to twist away, cursing at his fellows good naturedly. When he turned from them, however, Loki saw a flush of embarrassment in his cheeks. Wandering away from the rowdy gang, the boy looked up and saw Loki. Despite his general loathing for the pink race, Loki found himself offering the Asgardian a sympathetic smile. The lad took Loki's appearance in, quickly noting the gold chain at his collar. His expression changed into a sneer.  
  
"Look, Sion!" He called, pointing to Loki's alcove. "We have a servant to wait on us."  
  
Little shit, Loki cursed silently, regretting his attempt at sympathy. Sion, the biggest and loudest idiot of the group, turned and widened his eyes with pleasure.  
  
"Jotun!" He screamed, throwing his arms out like he was greeting an old friend. Loki dropped his gaze, staring down at his knees. "What are you doing here, jotun?" The man continued. It was such a stupid question, Loki wasn't sure he should answer. As a servant, he was required to treat all free Asgardians with respect, but engaging this one in conversation could only go sour. Loki swallowed the lump rising in his throat.  
  
"Bathing, sir." He said quietly, still focused on his knees.  
  
"Bathing, of course. I wasn't sure your kind understood basic hygiene." Loki's shoulders sagged as the boys laughed harder than the jest deserved. He stayed quiet, letting the insult ride itself out. Sion wasn't done yet. "Jotun, is it true your kind are both male and female?" The boys shushed, listening intently. Loki seethed.  
  
"That is none of your business." He allowed himself to retort, his voice quivering with suppressed anger and embarrassment.  
  
"Well it rather is. I mean, if you have a cunt you need to be next door with the other maidens." The Asgardian was pushing his way through the waist deep water, drawing closer to Loki.  
  
"Don't you touch me," Loki hissed, leaping to his feet. "I am property of Odin Allfather, your king. You may not lay hands on me." Sion raised his arms in mock surrender, slowing but not halting his advance.  
  
"I mean you no harm, jotun." He seemed to enjoy emphasizing Loki's race. "And, servant, you exist to do my bidding as well." The pack of boys, including the sniveling youngster that used to be the victim of their attacks, followed behind their leader like excited puppies. They urged Sion on with their laughing and whispering. Loki growled and pushed back against the wall, but he had nowhere to flee with the walls of the alcove barring him. Sion shot his arm out, grabbing Loki around his wrist and tugging him from the shelter of the nook. Loki resisted both the pull and the urge to claw at the man's face. He would be punished if he hurt him, but he wasn't about to take this abuse lying down.  
  
"There there, little jotun, I said I mean you no harm! Stop fighting me." No sooner had the words left his lips than he yanked Loki around roughly, catching him in some sort of restrictive wrestling stance. Loki found himself choking underneath the warrior's forearm with one of his own twisted up behind him. With his free hand, Loki pulled at the log of an arm crossing his throat, sputtering and gasping for air.  
  
"Hey now," A voice came, one of the old men from the back. "Leave him be."  
  
"Just having a bit of fun, no trouble here," Sion called back cheerfully. He relaxed his grip until Loki stopped writhing. "That's better," He crooned. "So, do you have a cunt?"  
  
Loki spit. It landed harmlessly in the water, but the message was clear.  
  
"Nice. Well, let's just take a look ourselves. Kreos?" Loki whined as one of the other boys dashed forward, knocking Loki's ankles out from under him and grabbing them up. His heart began throbbing with anxiety as the two boys carried him bodily to shallower water, and his twisted arm screamed in pain. He sputtered incoherent words of protest, hindered by the arm pushing into his windpipe and his own hair falling over his face and into his mouth.  
  
"Get off!" He finally croaked as Sion dropped his arm in favor of wrapping his limbs over Loki's shoulders and down around his back, effectively pinning Loki in a half seated position. Sion rested on his knees, holding Loki back against his thighs as two others gripped his ankles and pried his legs apart. A moan of shame wrenched its way from the depths of Loki's throat as they held his legs wide, and he pinched his eyes shut to black out their beaming faces.  
  
"I see cock and balls," the one called Kreos said, laughing. "And . . . by the nine, there is something there." Loki's legs trembled.  
  
"You lie," one of the others said, and the water splashed over Loki's belly as the boys shuffled in closer  
  
"I don't," Kreos snapped. "Look, just under its sack." A rude finger poked at Loki's sex, drawing a yelp from his tightly pressed lips. He started yelling again, writhing away from the unwanted prods. The boys were mesmerized by the sight of him, and Loki managed to wrench one ankle free and strike his heel into someone's guts. The wayward limb was quickly recaptured, and they spread him wider for their greedy eyes. Kreos was trying to get his finger into the little nub, a tightly sealed vagina nestled between Loki's male organs and his anus. Loki grunted in pain as Kreos forced his finger in to the first joint, pressing his nail into the hard wall of muscle that barred the path to Loki's womb.  
  
"Stop, STOP!" Loki screeched, bucking his hips away. "It doesn't work like that, you moron!" His voice sounded shaky and hoarse.  
  
"What does that mean?" Sion questioned, fascinated. "Someone hold him, I want a better look." A new body took Sion's place, clamping his knees around Loki's temple and pushing his head to the ground. A half hard cock dangled just above Loki's horrified eyes. The finger between his legs was removed as Sion knocked Kreos aside, staring unabashed at the jotun on display.  
  
"Doesn't look like any cunt I ever saw," He breathed, caressing the pinprick of a hole. "Can't fit a cock in that, much less a jotun cock. What's the deal, servant?" He ordered. When Loki clamped his lips shut firmly, Sion reached up and gave his balls a twist. Loki wailed in agony and shock, tears leaking from his eyes. They were really willing to hurt him, he realized with increasing panic, sobbing through the slowly ebbing pain. Not only was he to be humiliated by their questions and violated by their fingers, Sion was now torturing him for information. The warrior waited for Loki's sobs to reduce to shaky breaths before he asked again.  
  
"Tell me how this works." When Loki's quivering lips tightened once more, Sion reached again for his sensitive sack.  
  
"I'm not in heat!" Loki broke, a fresh rush of shame coursing through him. "It-it won't open until I'm... ovulating."  
  
"Heat," Sion snorted. "Like animals. You truly are a monstrous race, jotun."  
  
"Yes, sir," Loki whispered when the Asgardain looked at him expectantly. Loki hated himself for crying, but cold tears ran steadily down his temples. He braced as Sion dug at the nub again, trying to force his finger inside. Loki shouted and cursed, his screams echoing off the water.  
  
"Quiet, jotun! It won't hurt if you stop resisting," Sion hissed. "Stuff a towel in his mouth or something, his caterwauling is giving me a headache." One of the boys obeyed, and soon Loki's protests were muffled by the cloth. Sion worked diligently at the hole, scraping and making it bleed for his efforts, but never managed to get more than one digit past the tiny lips. "It's like a wall or something," he sighed, giving up. "This is the worst cunt I've ever seen, jotun." Loki relaxed immensely with the finger gone. It was finally over.  
  
"You sick fuck," he muttered into the towel.  
  
"What was that?" Sion said dangerously, motioning to the boy holding Loki down. The towel gag was removed.  
  
"Sick. Fuck." Loki enunciated, glaring at the man between his legs through teary eyes.  
  
"Fuck me, you say? You have a foul mouth jotun. We should clean it out. " Sion grabbed Loki by the ankles and dragged him into the pool, back towards the alcove. Loki flailed as the water deepened, struggling to keep his head above water as he was swept along. "Here we are," Sion announced gleefully, taking up the bar of soap. He allowed Loki to surface, and shoved the bar between the jotun's teeth as he opened his mouth to suck in air.  
  
"That's better, wash your whore mouth out. Bite off a piece, jotun. Loki fought back valiantly, sputtering and jerking about like a cat in water. Sion forced Loki against the wall by his throat, still pressing the soap past his lips. "Bite it, you little fuck, or I will choke you!" The impact of Loki's kicks were dulled by the water. He actually tried to bite the soap, but the bar was too thick, and his jaws were not strong enough to break it. He forced himself to become still, to show compliance.  
  
"Yes, clean your filthy mouth," his captor hissed in Loki's ear. Loki's eyes watered at the horrible taste assaulting his tongue, and his mouth salivated desperately to dull it. Drool spilled from the corners of his lips, running down his chin in rivers. Sion eased the bar in and out, running the soap along Loki's tongue and scraping small fakes off against his teeth. Loki accepted the punishment as still as he could, wishing he had held his silence.  
  
"That's good," his abuser whispered. Loki vaguely heard the others chanting their approval. He wondered if the old men were still watching, if the warrior was still swimming his laps.  
  
"Good." The foaming bar of soap slipped from his lips, and Loki doubled over, spitting out suds. "Good," Sion said again, guiding Loki to sit as the jotun fought to catch his breath. He leaned against the wall gratefully, shutting his eyes. Sion stood before him, his back to the other boys who crowded around the entrance to the alcove, blocking Loki from anyone else's view.  
  
"Suck it," came the command. Loki opened his eyes blearily, blinking rapidly to see through the tears pooled along his lashes.  
  
"What?" He asked, hoarse and exhausted.  
  
"Suck," Sion ordered again, and Loki gasped as something struck him across the bridge of his nose. He thought at first that Sion hit him, then realized with a churn of acid in his gut that it was a cock. Sion was rock hard, pressing his member in Loki's face and demanding to be serviced.  
  
"No! Be gone with you! I will never touch you-" He stopped abruptly, sealing his lips and turning his face as the cock came at him again. Sion tapped the head of it on Loki's cheek. Loki roared like an animal, lunging at the Asgardian. He had no training, and his opponent did. Loki was quickly subdued, gripped firmly by another boy as Sion approached him again.  
  
"You are such a prude. Relax, its normal. You have a cunt, I have a cock, this is how things go." Loki tried to turn as the swollen manhood prodded at his lips, but two large hands held him in place. "Open," Sion urged, tapping his erection on the jotun's blue lips. He sighed as Loki glared up at him defiantly, entwining his fingers through his long, dark hair almost gently. Loki gasped as his head was suddenly forced down, first inhaling water, then releasing his lungful of air in a scream of bubbles. Sion jerked him back up, let him catch half a breath, then Loki was underwater again. He clawed desperately at the hands submerging him, bellowing in fury and terror. It felt like a savage battle to Loki, but his thrashing barely upset the surface of the water.  
  
His vision was going dark when Sion pulled him out. Loki sucked the sweet air in violently, his ribs heaving and limbs quaking weakly. There was a tap on his lips.  
  
"Suck." Loki slowly dropped his jaw, still drawing in shuddering breaths. Warm skin slipped past his trembling lips, sliding along his tongue not unlike the bar of soap. Sion groaned softly, pushing in a little deeper each time. "So cold," he commented, admiring the sight of his thick member invading the supple lips. "Not as good as an Asgardian's mouth." Loki gagged a little as the head slid over the back of his tongue, shuddering. The remnants of soap in his teeth prevented him from tasting anything, and Loki was grateful for small favors. Sion laughed as his cock lathered the suds in Loki's mouth, generating small tufts of foam.  
  
"Look how well he cleans me! This, my friends, is how dicks should be washed." Loki took the cock lifelessly, his jaw hanging limp. If the boy holding him let go, Loki would sink to the bottom on the bath and let himself drown. He daydreamed about it, imagining the peace of it, the release from this humiliation. His attention faded back to reality when Sion hooked his thumbs in Loki's cheeks, bracing them against the back of his teeth. Loki choked as the Asgardian began thrusting energetically, forcing his head against the back of Loki's throat. Loki jerked involuntarily, but was restrained. Sion's balls smacked repeatedly against his chin.  
  
He moaned and sighed with pleasure, calling Loki pet names and laughing at his buddy's vulgar comments. Their guffaws echoed around the room when Sion poked the head against the inside of Loki's cheek, stretching his face obscenely. He molded the jotun's features into grotesque shapes with his member for a good while before returning to his pleasure.  
  
Loki hardly cared when the dick started cutting off his air supply, but his body had other ideas. Loki retched, heaving three times before Sion pulled out and allowed him to empty his belly into the water. The others groaned in disgust, backing away from the mess and pulling Loki along with them.  
  
"You need to work on that," Sion said. "Or you will never be worth anything." He dragged the limp jotun to a wash platform, lifting him onto it belly down. Loki winced when his legs were nudged apart, but made no move to fight back. He was done. The bastards could have him and drown him afterwards. A soft breath escaped his lips as two hands spread his cheeks apart and a finger dug into his anus. Loki didn't think he had it in him to resist, but his muscles clenched with surprising force.  
  
"He's cold up his ass too," Someone complained. "Do you shit ice, jotun?" Loki did not answer, he did not need to. They were far more interested in the other entrance that was between his legs. There was no protective barrier in his rear to defend him from the probing digits. Sion overcame the contracting muscles and plugged Loki with two fingers, pumping hard while other hands drummed out a rhythmless beat on his ass cheeks.  
  
Loki groaned when two more fingers wiggled in, starting to pull away as the pain found new strength within him. Sion had two fingers from each hand shoved inside the jotun and was pulling the ring of muscle apart to peer inside. Loki wailed sharply as Sion pried him open, and the tearing feeling stopped. The hands left his body, and for one glorious second no one was touching him. Then hands slid up his thighs and gripped his hips. Sion's bouncing cock found its way to Loki's hole and breeched the tight passage.  
  
There was grunting and huffing behind him as Sion worked his way in, jerking his hips forward in stuttering motions. Loki managed to take the head and first few inches, then it started to burn. He bucked as the invasion tore him from the inside out, tossing his head back and screaming his misery to the ceiling. Sion held on like he was riding a wild horse, steadily fucking his way into the jotun until he was balls deep.  
  
"Fucking cold," Sion gritted, riding Loki hard. Loki's hands scrambled along the marble platform, seeking purchase, or a weapon, anything. The Asgardain pulled out completely, then plunged back in. It made Loki gasp, so he repeated the motion several more times. Every time the cock sunk into its mark the boys cheered. When it fell wayward and slipped up or to the side, they laughed and taunted Sion for missing.  
  
"Shake your ass for me," He commanded. Loki obeyed weakly, wiggling his hips. "Pathetic," a hand smacked down hard on his rear. "Try again." Breath hitching in his chest, the jotun put more force into his sway, and Sion hummed with pleasure.  
  
It seemed like an eternity before Sion finally got down to business. Loki felt the change of pace as the man ground into him, his long pumps becoming shorter and faster. He let out a choking moan and pulled out to spill his seed on the curve of Loki's ass. Pearly drops of semen decorated the blue jotun skin in a mockery of the jewelry that once adorned his hips.  
  
Loki lay there for a few moments, feeling empty and wet, his red and defiled hole open for all to see. Another boy took Sion's place, refilling Loki to bursting and taking his pleasure. Then another, and another, until they finally had their fun and left their prey battered and leaking their seed to the silent room.

  



	2. Chapter 2

Thor was several paces ahead of the old man who had grasped his arm, wheezing breathlessly about some commotion in the bathhouse. The urgency in his voice was enough to prompt the prince into abandoning the class he was teaching, and soon they were crossing the sparring yards towards the palace.  
  
"This one?" Thor called back, pointing to the building, and the old man nodded earnestly. It was quiet inside. Thor listened intently for sounds of struggle, but all that reached his ears were his own thunderous footsteps. At first glance, the bathing hall seemed abandoned, then Thor's gaze found the blue jotun. He was lying across a wash platform, completely still. Even from this distance Thor could see the bruising on his body, dark purple splotches on his shoulders, back, rear, and thighs. The healers would probably find more.  
  
"Oh graces." The old man came panting up to Thor's side. The prince moved forward, wading knee deep to the platform and looking the jotun over. "I should have stopped them. There were so many, I just didn't think I could," the main trailed off, shaking his head regretfully.  
  
"You did the right thing coming to me," Thor assured him, reaching down to Loki's neck and taking his pulse. The servant was alive, though his gaze was clouded and unmoving. "Once the heat is in their blood, there is little else to stop them aside from brute force." Unhooking his cloak from his shoulders, Thor covered the naked jotun.  
  
"I'm going to carry you. Do not fear me." Wrapping the limp form as he lifted, Thor soon had the servant bundled in his arms, covered completely in the red cape to hide him from curious eyes. Half the cloth was soaked and left a trail of draining water as the prince, old man, and anonymous servant made their way to the castle.  
  
"You will need to talk to a guard named Dusor," Thor told the man. "Give him a description of the culprits. I will have him summoned to me afterwards."  
  
The elder nodded. "I only caught the first name of one of the lads. Sion, it was. I wish I could be more helpful, but my eyes aren't as clear as they used to be. There was another warrior there, but he grabbed his towel and left when things got rough, the bastard. Acted like he didn't see what was happening."  
  
"Anything you can tell Dusor will help," Thor urged. "And hopefully the jotun will provide us with more to work with." He shouldered his way into the healer's hall, dropping Loki into the first available nook and drawing the curtain for privacy. A woman hurried over, unwrapping the wet delivery, crooning gently.  
  
"Rape," Thor explained. "By several men, probably. See that he is made well." The healer nodded, and Thor leaned down closer to Loki's ear. "There will be retribution. You have my word." The jotun didn't blink.  
  
"Can you tell me your name?" The woman, Rnen, asked. The jotun continued to stare blankly at the ceiling.  
  
"It's Loki." Thor said softly. Yes, he remembered this one. Thor had been at his father's side when the jotun prince was delivered. He was to be a peace offering, a sacrifice of Jotunheim's royal family for their transgressions against Asgard. But, when Laufey presented his smallest, weakest offspring, Odin saw it for the snub it was. The truce with Jotunheim remained shaky at best.  
  
A blue frost giant milling about the castle was not easy to miss and Thor saw him frequently, though they rarely spoke. Thor crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, frowning. Realizing that the prince had no intention of leaving, the healer cleared her throat gently and let the cloak fall open, baring Loki for her inspection.  
  
She noted the bruises along his jaw and the frothy residue of the soap, wincing as her imagination ran wild. Shaking her head gently, Rnen dropped her attention to Loki's most abused area.  
  
Thor watched her intently, his fists clenching anxiously. Rape among soldiers was more common than many knew. As prince, Thor was privy to every report and accusation, and often mediated the worst of them. This was not the first time a bathhouse was the origin of crime, either. Each time it happened, a guard was posted to monitor the patrons and prevent further abuse. After a year or so without incident, however, they were often relieved of duty. It was tiresome work, and no one wanted to spend an eight hour shift in a steamy room with dozens of naked men. Thor wondered vaguely how many crimes went unreported out of embarrassment. He averted his eyes as Loki gasped.  
  
*  
  
The feminine voice whispering assurances to Loki was slowly piercing through the dense fog his mind had retreated into. He was safe, for now. Sion and the others were gone, and the giant brute of a man that had loomed over him in the bathhouse did not seem to have the same interest in his body. That confused Loki. It was almost insulting. Instead, he wrapped Loki in some heavy cloak and bore him away.  
  
Now some woman was prodding at his aching rear. The jotun smacked her hand away with a spitting hiss.  
  
"I'm fine," he insisted, trying to roll off the bed. "Let me go back to my work, I have chores to attend to." By the nine, his middle ached. It felt like his guts were ready to fall out. Loki swiped at the man who stepped forward and held his palms out in peace, ignoring the request to lay himself down again. "No, I'm fine, just let me go," he pleaded, feeling his limbs begin to quiver again.  
  
He protested weakly, dissolving into tears and trembles as the two eased him onto his back. "I'm late for my duties," he sobbed, lolling his head back against the filthy Asgardian who pinned him gently against his broad chest while the female ducked her head between his knees. 

"Loki," she said, "I'm going to smear a balm over your testicles and anus, that's all. I won't go inside you, not until you are ready." Loki cried anyway when she touched him, though the relief of the ointment took the edge off his voice. Small, delicate hands swabbed at his sack (Loki remembered the violent twist of Sion's hands) and his bleeding vagina (he could still feel their nails tearing at him). The heaving sobs stopped when she reached his destroyed rear, though. Loki shuddered into her touch, releasing his breath and relaxing against Thor as kind fingers swept over his hole.  
  
Thor. He recognized the Asgardian now. If the prince knew about this, then there was little chance Loki could avoid reporting it. He really did not want to cry in front of the son of Odin, but Loki could not help himself. At least he was not sobbing outright anymore. They were silent tears, crawling down his cheeks as soft as snowflakes.  
  
"There," the woman nodded. "What else hurts, dear?" Loki swallowed.  
  
"My arm," he admitted. "Left arm." Sion had twisted it backwards, and now the joints burned and throbbed.  
  
"Loki," the prince said, releasing him now that he was no longer squirming. "I am Thor, do you know me?" Of course he did. The son of Odin had been among the cruel faces that took him from Jotunheim. He nodded. "Tell me what happened. I need names, descriptions."  
  
Wonderful. Just as Loki was managing to block it out, the brute wanted him to re-live it.  
  
"Not now, please," he begged, turning his face away.  
  
"I wish it could wait, but the longer those men roam free, the harder it will be to make a case. Please," Thor knelt in the stone floor in front of him, staring up at the jotun with large, soft eyes. "You need not be ashamed. I have seen this happen to seasoned warriors."  
  
That was interesting. Loki's lip trembled as he tried to find words. "Five, I think," he said, breath hitching. He raised a shaky hand to his mouth, pressing it against his face to calm himself. "Sion. I don't know the other names. Young. Brown hair, long. Ugly face. Ugly eyes. A smaller boy, blond hair." Loki could see Sion clearly in his mind, but the only words that came to mind to describe him in detail were 'evil', 'cruel', and 'beast'. Somehow, he did not think that would help Thor's case.  
  
"Sion," The Prince muttered. "We will find him, and he will name the others."  
  
"It isn't important," Loki whispered. "Don't waste your time."  
  
"It is important," Thor argued. "You are not his to touch." He stood, releasing the jotun. "I must speak to someone now. Rnen will take care of you, and a guard will escort you back to your chambers. On the morrow, I will contact you."  
  
Loki nodded absently, and the prince left. "Your cloak," The jotun said weakly, but Thor didn't hear. Smoothing his palm over the glossy material, Loki gathered a fistful and held it tight. The scarlet fabric contrasted appealingly in his blue grip, and Loki rested his gaze on it.  
  
*  
  
Dusor was waiting for Thor outside the ward. He pushed himself off the wall as the prince approached, looking weary and drawn.  
  
"It's barely midday," he complained, and Thor shook his head, jutting his jaw forward in frustration.  
  
"Did you talk to the witness?"  
  
"The old man bumbling around in naught but a towel? Aye. He was adamant about recounting his story, and dropped your name several times." Dusor chuckled. "One of your father's servants?" He asked, his face falling grim once again.  
  
"Aye. He will be most displeased when he learns of this." The jotun was handed to the Allfather personally as a gift. Loki may not have proven to be of much interest or use, but it was still an affront to the throne to have him defiled.  
  
"Poor thing." Dusor was sincerely sorry. "I have seen warriors twice his size taken down by a hot blooded group, what chance does a small jotun bear? Is he badly damaged?"  
  
"He will feel it for a few days yet," Thor mused. "Emotionally, who knows." Chewing at his thumb, the prince reflected silently for a several moments before catching Dusor's eye. "Find them," he said gravely. "Find them if you have to drag in every Sion in Asgard."  
  
"You know I will," The guard captain promised. Thor smiled tenderly at his friend, sharing a brief moment of peace before the weight of Loki's situation dragged his shoulders down again.  
  
"Go, then," he urged. Dusor dipped his head in a mild bow and turned on his heel, marching from the hall with purpose. Thor watched him go, huffing a low sigh.  
  
*  
  
Loki lay still for hours before the healer deemed him well enough to retire to his own bed. He accepted the vial of ointment from her with a grateful nod, wrapping a simple, loaned robe around himself for the journey. After a brief internal struggle, Loki took Thor's still damp cloak into his arms, folding it with practiced hands and holding the bundle tightly against his belly. A guard was waiting outside the healer's quarters, and Loki groaned inwardly. He did not want an escort. He was sick of Asgardians altogether.  
  
"You don't need to do this," Loki spat.  
  
"Thor's orders." Dammnit. Forcing himself to endure the man's presence, Loki hurried swiftly along the corridors and down flights of stairs. The elaborate columns and decorative tapestries gradually faded into simple stone wall as the pair neared the servant's hall. Loki was relieved to the point of tears when he grasped the handle to his chambers, slipping in and closing the guard from his life without so much as a fare-thee-well.  
  
Neroius looked up from his chair as Loki entered, the grating echo of steel against whetstone fading into silence. The dark elf had shared quarters with Loki since the beginning of his enslavement. The son of a prominent ambassador from Svartalfheim, Neroius was another token of war, a prize for Odin to admire as the elf worked about the castle. The purple eyes took Loki's appearance in suspiciously, but he said nothing. He never did. Neroius had existed in a state of silence for as long as Loki knew him.  
  
They had nothing in common but their enslavement to Odin and their exclusion from Asgardian culture. Neither had adapted well to their new home, both keeping mostly to themselves. It hardly created a bond between them, but Loki found himself in the elf's bed on occasion, or on his knees at Neroius' chair. Once in a while, if the mood struck him, Neroius returned the favor.  
  
Other than that, they had little interaction, and Loki didn't expect any sympathy from his roommate. Without a word, he shed the robe and climbed into his bed, turned his back to Neroius, and drew the covers over his exhausted body. His stomach coiled in hunger, but the jotun could not bring himself to eat. He just pressed Thor's cloak to tighter to himself and forced his eyes closed.  
  
Eventually, the elf returned to sharpening his blades, and Loki fell into a fitful sleep to the rhythmic scraping.  
  
He dozed for the rest of the evening and stayed in his room through dinner. Half way through the night, Loki awoke with a desperate need to urinate and painful hunger cramps. He whimpered quietly, trying to sit up, but discovering his rear was swollen and tender was unable to rest his weight on it. He shifted onto his knees instead, clutching the furs to his chest.  
  
The sound of Neroius' steady breathing was deeply comforting. Despite a general tendency to be poor company, Loki was very glad for the elf's presence. Two bread rolls and a trencher of water had been left on his night table, and Loki drank greedily. The rolls disappeared in four mighty bites, and Loki felt considerably better.  
  
He eyed the ointment on the table, longing for something to sooth the interminable ache between his ass, but decided to journey the hall to the washroom first. An irrational fear clogged Loki's throat as he dressed himself in a simple gown and reached for the door. The corridor was quiet and empty. Holding his breath, Loki marched hurriedly to the washroom and finished his business as soon as he could.  
  
No one interrupted him, nothing creaked or make startling noises, but the jotun found himself nearly hyperventilating by the time he slipped back into his cot. Sion's voice had chased him though the darkness and flashbacks came unbidden into Loki's mind, leaving him nauseated and weak at the knees. Smothering his heaving gasps with Thor's cloak, Loki tried to silence himself, afraid to wake Neroius. Almost immediately, the taunting voices faded, crushed from Loki by the weight of the red cloth against his lips. Gradually his panic subsided, and the dark chambers were quiet again. Loki wiped his tears on the cape, then groped along his nightstand for the bottle.  
  
Rolling onto his back, Loki shrugged the robe from his shoulders, covering himself with the scarlet cloak instead. It smelled like hay and horses. Thor must have been riding that day. As soon as Loki parted his knees, his thighs began to quiver uncontrollably. His muscles were exhausted and strained, too weary to fight against his own fingers as he circled his swollen hole gingerly, smearing the jell in delicate circles. Blessing the healer, Loki recoated his fingers, venturing one inside himself. The initial pain made him bite his lip in agony, but it was quickly chased away with sweet, cool relief.  
  
With the worst of it tended to, Loki moved upward to his female sex, then his aching balls and flaccid penis. Other than a deeper ache that his fingers could not reach and burning muscles, the jotun felt almost normal, physically. He wondered if Thor's cloak held some enchantment, perhaps a spell to keep warrior's calm in battle. There was something very soothing about its weight on him. Very soothing.  
Loki was awake when the guard rapped on his door the next morning. Neroius was gone, tending to his chores, and Loki's heart pounded as the knock came again.  
  
"Jotun?" A voice called through the wood, calm and professional. "Prince Thor has summoned you. I am to see you to the guard's hall."  
  
"Alright," Loki squeaked, calming himself. He settled his nerves as best he could with a few deep breaths, then gathered his courage and opened the door.  
  
"Lead the way."  
  
*  
  
Thor eyed the youth sitting across from him at the large wooden table. The boy hardly looked like a rapist, but the witness had waved a finger at him vigorously when presented with five different lads called Sion.  
  
"That's him! That's the little shit who done it," the old man said excitedly. So far, the boy had denied everything.  
  
"Wasn't even in the bathhouse," he insisted, blinking up at Thor and Dusor with wide eyes. Behind Thor, the door opened, and Sion's gaze narrowed. A dull ember burned in his eyes, and Thor knew at once that he was guilty. Standing, the prince turned to face the newly arrived guard and Loki. The jotun blanched, wringing his hands feebly.  
  
"Loki," Thor greeted once he was near, resting a large palm on the servant's shoulder. He could feel the gentle, suppressed tremors quaking through the frail body. "At ease, Loki," He said quietly. "Look at me, not him." Loki obeyed, turning his ruby eyes up to the prince. "Is that Sion?" Thor questioned. The jotun nodded numbly, eyes brimming with tears, but they did not spill over. "Thank you," The prince said, turning to nod at Dusor.  
  
The guard captain turned back to Sion with a sneer. "Well, boy? The jotun seems to recognize you." Sion glared petulantly across the chambers. Dusor snapped his fingers in front of the youth's face. "Look at me, Sion. Staring down the jotun won't do you any good at this point."  
  
"He wanted it," Sion spat, loud enough to carry across the chambers. Thor glanced down at Loki, who looked like he just might faint. The prince wrapped one hand around his arm, just in case, squeezing him consolingly. "You should have seen how he shook his ass at us. Begging for it, he was!"  
  
"Enough!" Dusor shouted, smacking his palm loudly against the table top. "Speaking of 'us', let's get to that. Name the others, and I will make a note on your file that you were cooperative." Sion just snorted.  
  
"Are you well?" Thor whispered as Dusor grilled Loki's attacker. The jotun was staring dazedly at the scene before him, clearing his throat to answer.  
  
"I have your cloak," he muttered.  
  
"Oh?" Thor prompted.  
  
"Yes," Loki swallowed. "I will clean it and get it back to you, sire."  
  
"No rush," Thor assured. He'd forgotten the cloak completely. There were dozens in his wardrobe.  
  
"He wanted it, you moron!" Sion was screaming suddenly. "He was like an animal in heat! I took him first, but it wasn't enough! He wanted all of us! Wasn't nothing rapey about it!"  
  
Without warning, Loki doubled over and vomited, splashing his breakfast over Thor's boots. "Easy now, Loki, you're alright," The prince soothed, shaking his head and gathering the jotun's lengthy hair back as he heaved. He had half a mind to knock Sion's teeth in.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Loki murmured, spitting and wiping the moisture from his eyes. "So sorry, I'll clean those for you."  
  
"It's all right, don't fuss," Thor looked pointedly at Dusor, who nodded. "Come, let's go." Thor guided a still bent over Loki from the room, the jotun repeatedly whispering apologies. He eased Loki onto a bench in the hall, waving down a guard and demanding towels. "You're ok," the prince repeated, taking a seat next to the servant. The jotun was quivering, rocking back and forth gently with his arms wrapped around his belly.  
  
"So sorry," Loki was still murmuring.  
  
"That was good, actually," Thor mused. He wished he knew how to comfort the miserable servant. "Such a violent physical reaction to him will likely sway the jury to your favor even more," he added. "Sion is going away, Loki. He will pay for his crimes." The jotun nodded agreeably, but his eyes looked doubtful. Returning with moist towels, the guard handed them to Thor, eyeing the state of his boots. The prince passed one to Loki, who wiped at his mouth in embarrassment. He watched Thor scrub the worst of the mess off as if it were nothing but a bit of dirt. The prince handled himself with such grace, Loki could not help but admire him. He was nothing like Sion.  
  
"Is there anything you want to tell me, Loki, before you return to your chambers?" Thor asked. Loki thought for a moment, but shook his head.  
  
"I will return your cloak as soon as possible," he said once more. Thor smiled kindly, then waved Loki off with a guarded escort. He watched the jotun retreating down the corridor, heart aching with sympathy, and smiled warmly when he looked back at Thor before turning the corner. The smile faded as soon as Loki was out of sight. The prince stood somberly, returning to the interrogation room to back Dusor.  
  
Threaten and negotiate as they might, Sion refused to name his companions. Two hours later, Thor and Dusor gave up for the day, sending Sion down to the dungeon to reconsider. The guard captain rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily.  
  
"You know," he sighed, accepting a cup of tea from the prince. "Once those boys catch wind that their mate is locked up, they might seek revenge." Thor's eyes narrowed considerably. Dusor was right. Warriors were fiercely loyal to one another. "Shall I post a guard outside his room?"  
  
Thor considered the idea, then shook his head. "No. We will pull a switch," he decided. "I will send my attendant on leave and put Loki in his place." It was not the first time Thor had taken a vulnerable witness as his personal servant. It was an easy way to keep an eye on them, to keep them safe until the angry fires died out.  
  
"After all," he added, sipping his drink and wishing it were ale instead, "he seems quite eager to clean my things."


End file.
